Original subtitles

Where is Freedom?

Loiacono, Salvatore, you are charged with breaking and entering into

the Portorino jail on June 2, 1922,

letting yourself in through the window and entering one of the cells.

- Is this the truth? - Yes, sir.

Will the defendant please come here?

Right away, Your Excellency. Excuse me.

- Sit down. - No, thanks. I just stood up.

- It's an order, not an invitation. - I'll obey.

Stand up! You can't expect me to take it to you.

You just told me to sit down.

- The President ordered you to stand up. - I'll obey.

- Is this your doing? - Yes, sir.

So you admit this is your invasion plan?

Escape plan, Your Excellency.

- Put this on the record. - Just a moment, Counselor.

As you know, the defendant has been charged with violating article 633

for breaking into a public building.

All right, President. It was a break-in.

And he has just admitted it.

But it wasn't a premeditated plan.

As he himself has explained, that piece of paper

contained a jailbreak plan.

That's why I asked it be put on the record.

All right! Let it be put on the record.

That way, we'll manage to prove that before breaking into the jail,

the defendant had tried to escape from it.

Mr. President, will you ask Mr. Loiacono

why he had drawn up that plan?

- I object! - I don't object. Is that clear?

Your Excellency, he doesn't know anything about this.

I'll tell you what happened.

I used that piece of paper to get back to prison.

- It's not true! - It's true!

- No! - It's true.

- What are you talking about? - Shut up!

- Shut up, I said. - Shut up, we said.

- No! - Yes! Shut up, we said.

- Enough! - Wow!

- Sit down. - Sit down.

I'm not a criminal, you know.

- I'm gonna call the police. - It's nonsense!

- It really is nonsense! - It's nonsense!

It's nonsense.

Counselor, please. Let the defendant talk.

- Carry on. - Let's. This is very sensible.

So let me say it again, Mr. President. It's true that on June 2,

I secretly broke into the jail, as you were saying.

It is also true that, as the District Attorney was saying,

that while I was serving my time in jail

I had prepared that plan, which is a great plan.

There's no need to be humble, Your Excellency.

No, Counselor. The plan was perfect.

Let me explain.

Your Excellency, those who haven't been there can't possibly understand.

You have to get used to it. And I did. I felt great.

The Portorino jail is an old castle in a really charming place.

The air is perfect, when it manages to get inside.

Believe me, Mr. President, I felt at home.

Before going to prison, I lived in contact with other people.

I'm of a sociable nature. So I took care of my fellow inmates.

Are you done?

Give it to me.

Come on. Hurry up.

Aren't you happy it's over?

One more soup means one day less in here.

How many more soups do you have to eat?

Me, 180 to go.

- I've got 4,000 left. - Don't despair.

Something always happens: pardons, amnesties, parole...

lllness... Let me take care of it. Trust me.

Come on. Let go of it.

- Let go. - No, I paid for this.

- Let go. - No, I paid for this.

"I paid for this!"

"I have money. I paid for this!"

I'll bust your head! I'll bust your head!

Stop it! Celestino, let's start the tournament.

- Yes, let's start. - What are we betting?

- Two joints. - All right.

I was surrounded by respectable people.

Goodness, friendship, selflessness.

It was one for all and all for one.

I was like a father to them.

Yes. I shaved them, entertained them.

A love letter? A song?

Let's start. Start it up.

My home.

My home

We are both in bereavement.

We are both in bereavement

Sadness fills our hearts.

Sadness fills our hearts

Like a bad fever bringing us down.

Like a bad fever bringing us down

And slowly killing us.

And slowly killing us

My home.

- My- - No no no no.

No, my dear friend. This is not a jolly song. It's sentimental.

- I must feel the pain or it's useless. - Shall I bite your hands?

Bite whatever you want but make me feel the pain.

- And then that's not how I wrote it. - Why?

My home

And so on. Go on.

Eight more days and I'm out.

I've been here for four years.

It's 21 years, 11 months and three days for me.

Kiddo, you're coming back here.

Touch wood. What about him?

- He committed a crime of passion. - Let's start again.

- Let's start again. - All right.

Go on.

In this home of mine...

In this home of mine

When you were there

Happiness was everywhere

Young smiles

Now that you're gone

I can't take it anymore

This home is sad and silent

Because you aren't there

My home

Both of us are in bereavement

Sadness fills our hearts

Like a bad fever bringing us down

And slowly

killing us

My home

How beautiful it was when you were here

Let me make a toast to the windmill's breeze

The happiness of married life

A happiness we can no longer

Feel

I must write to lolanda. She's angry. I don't know why.

You know, you could help me write a letter.

One of those love letters with those words,

- sentences that make you cry. - Yes.

- Will you help me? - Of course.

I'll finish my chores first.

It's Thursday so correspondence is allowed.

When I get out, I want to hold her tighter than ever.

- Will you help me? - Yes. Go on now.

The next one. Whose turn is it?

Come on.

Inside those walls, things went on smoothly

and my life flew by quietly without any worries.

One fine day... Actually, one bad day, big emotions were in store for me.

I had been paroled-

no less than 1,180 days.

That is to say three years, two months and 22 days early.

All thanks to my good behavior.

All of a sudden, they said to me, "You're free. "

I should have been happy, shouldn't I?

I'd been looking forward to it for 22 years.

Instead, I felt a great fear. a great sadness.

I had an unpleasant sense of foreboding

and my heart started pounding.

This is your bag. It contains a wallet,

a belt, a watch, a chain and your wedding ring.

Salvatore Loiacono.

Parole papers at the door.

He's being set free.

Superior...

It hasn't worked for 22 years.

Salvatore, these are your belongings. £32,830. They're all marked.

Gray wool suit, £9,400.

- Black calfskin shoes, £2,000. - Yes, sir.

Two wool pullovers. You still have £23,202 and 30.

Ten, 20,

23, 100, 2... Wait.

Thirty. Here you go.

- Is it foreign currency? - Stamps.

Stamps?

- Can you spend it? - Do you want to spend it?

Let's give Salvatore a fine present. Take a tie. Would you like a tie?

But it's conspicuous.

- A beautiful hat then. Take number two. - All right, Superior.

Salvatore, now you're getting out and entering proper society.

Be sure to sort yourself out, Salvatore. You have a profession. You're a barber.

Just think you'll be among upright men and try to stand out.

- Yeah, I know. - It's a satisfaction for us too.

Take this one. It's brand new.

- It's new. It's really new. - A benefactor gave it to us.

- Don Quanella. - Yeah, Don Quanella.

It suits you. It's beautiful. It's a bit loose, but...

- It's a bit loose. - We'll put paper inside it

and it'll be fine.

Superior...

You want this one? Take it. It makes you look more like a gentleman.

You don't mind, do you?

Listen, Salvatore. One more recommendation.

Here. These are the parole papers.

You have to take them and go to the police headquarters in Rome.

- With this? - They'll tell you what you have to do.

- You'll be on probation for two years. - I know.

Then they'll give you some time to settle down, find lodging.

- Yeah. - A house. May the Virgin be with you.

Guard, Salvatore Loiacono is getting out.

Free!

Free free free! Open up!

- Here we go. - Boss, he is to be let out.

Guard.

Papers!

Loiacono Salvatore Pasquale, born in Castellammare di Stabia on May 1...

Yeah, don't bother.

- Here you go. Good luck. - Thank you.

- Thank you so much. - Not at all.

- Remember not to come back here. - Yes, sir.

You've seen it.

- The jail is bad for you. - I know.

You're a good man and you work. It'll be easy to live among

- respectable people again. - I hope so.

Come and open up.

Please. Men in uniform first.

Freedom!

The long-desired freedom.

I left for Rome.

As the law prescribes, I presented myself to the police headquarters

and they allowed me three days to look for lodging.

My first concern was to get myself a woman.

You know, after 22 years in jail.

I had good reason, Your Excellency.

- Let's pass over this point. - Counselor.

Let it be, please. Let him speak.

Women!

Those sublime, angelic creatures, with their sweet and kind disposition.

They're so good and understanding.

Or that's what I thought at that time.

I would have done anything for a woman.

Mr. President, my wife had died while I was in prison.

I was a widower. I was alone. So when I left the police headquarters,

as soon as I heard the sound of a woman's step on the sidewalk...

Is the Augusteo near here?

- I don't know. - How can you not know?

But there's no doubt. It has to be here.

The Corso, via Vittoria.

Over there should be the bridge...

I don't know. I pass through here every day, but I don't know what it's called.

Excuse me, sir, is this via delle Colonnette?

It used to be. There's nothing left. Everything's been demolished.

- Bomb? - No, before that, demolition.

- Excuse me, sir? - Yes?

- Where was the Augusteo? - Right there.

Right there? It's in a really bad state.

You know, I lived there. Just a couple feet to your right.

Thank you.

If that's the Augusteo... Let me see.

Yes, it's here.

My salon was here.

It was one of the best barber shops at that time.

I had four American armchairs that nobody had ever seen.

One day, a bad day,

right here, in this armchair,

Cannolicchio, my best friend, was sitting. That was his nickname.

His name was Antonio Parisi. My best friend...

He was telling me about the trade union revolution. He had risked everything.

In 1920, he had challenged the city of Civitavecchia, which was Red.

It was on March 23, and that date reminded him of many things.

I was shaving him and listening to him. I was looking at him in the mirror.

Right there, in the mirror.

I saw my wife calling me from the street. She didn't want to come in.

I said to my friend, "Wait a moment. " I gave him the newspaper and I went out.

"What do you want, Aida?"

She told me that Antonia, my best friend,

the one sitting in there,

knowing that I was at the shop, had gone to my house and tried to dishonor her.

Poor Aida. What a coward!

In my house, with my wife.

Blood rushed to my head.

I was shaking like a leaf and I tried to control myself.

I went back inside. He put down the newspaper.

And he sat like this, with his eyes closed.

I lost my temper.

I wanted to tell you everything. Now tell me what you want to do.

I suggest we go to the dance marathon. I love it. Shall we go?

Let's go.

Leave your hat at the coatroom.

Bye.

Hello, guys!

- How are you? - Same as yesterday.

Hi. Can I introduce you

- to my friend, Mr... - Salvatore Loiacono.

- How do you do? - How do you do?

Do you want to take a seat?

- Of course, we'll sit by the jury. Bye. - Have a pleasant evening.

Let's sit here. This is my table.

- Nice place, isn't it? - Yeah.

- Are they always dancing? - Always.

- Don't they ever take a rest? - 12 minutes an hour.

- They cheat a little. - No. Are you crazy?

I'm here every night.

Look, they've been dancing for 931 hours.

931 hours?

- May I dance with the young lady? - Please.

- Do you feel like dancing? - Yes, please.

If you want to dance too...

What's happening here is only logical.

I bet these kids have had nothing but the sandwiches we've given them.

- Right, Fred? - Unluckily.

It's the producer that isn't working. He hasn't paid anybody.

He hasn't spent one cent in advertising. In Bologna, things were done properly

- and I earned £1,800. - Congratulations!

He's a ghost producer. He never shows up on the dance floor.

We can't move from here so we can't talk to him.

If I had known, I would have talked to him.

- Good idea, Salvatore. Why don't you? - Yes.

- I'll talk to him. - Well done.

- Right now. Excuse me. - Please.

- Excuse me, sir. Are you the producer? - Yes.

- Nice to meet you. Am I disturbing you? - No.

If you don't mind, I'd like to know what you are going to do with those guys.

- What guys? - Why, the dancers!

- In what capacity are you here? - As a friend.

- Salvatore Loiacono. May I? - All right.

What are your intentions? You never show up.

You're never on the dance floor.

Be honest, can they dance for 931 hours

with only a sandwich in their stomachs? It's impossible.

It's not right nor human.

What are you talking about? I ruined myself to help them cut a fine figure.

The expense, the taxes, the rent, the orchestra, the advertising.

Advertising advertising! Tell me, what are your intentions?

I'm telling you I ruined myself. I haven't got any money left.

I've also organized a cotillion for them tomorrow evening.

I'm worse off than they are.

- If I cash in, I'll pay. - Will you? Yes?

Word of honor between gentlemen? May I report it?

Don't worry. If I cash in, I'll pay.

- You'll pay? - I'll pay.

But how are those kids going to hold on in the meantime?

The sandwiches... where are they? Where are the sandwiches?

Listen, here's what we can do.

You front the money and tomorrow night I'll pay you back.

- Shall I take you at your word? - Yes.

All right.

- Some more pasta? - How's the pasta?

It tastes good, right?

- It's quite something. - It's thanks to me.

You're a darling.

- Good morning. - Good morning.

- Good morning. - Enjoy your meal.

Have a nice marathon.

Enjoy your meal.

Wake up. Wake up, what's your name. What is your name? I can't remember it.

- Who is it? - I have to rest.

What time is it? Who... I'm sorry, Fred. I'm sorry.

- Come on. - I'm so sorry, Fred.

- I apologize. - Wake me up in 12 minutes.

Of course I'll wake you up.

In fact, here's what we can do...

you can sleep 12 minutes and I can sleep 42.

I'll always wake you up at the right time.

When you dance, I'll sleep.

I'll take care of your interests and help you out

and I'll live here.

Is it settled? Is it a deal?

Sleep tight. I'll wake you up in 12 minutes.

- How much is all this? - £640.

£640.

Here you go. 100...

200 and 200 is 700.

Will you bring me the change immediately?

All right.

- Hand me my belt, please. - I'm on it.

- Belt- Sorry. - Hi, honey.

Have you seen how many people there are?

Yes, I've seen.

Tonight is going to be a success.

GREAT DANCE MARATHON 41 DAYS - 982 HOURS

- Thank you. - Well done.

Well done, well done.

Band, maestro, enough!

- What do you mean? - Enough.

Who's saying enough? Why?

What's going on?

- What's going on? - What do I know?

It's incredible. Is this the way... God, Ines, what's going on?

- I don't know. - But why?

Is this the way they treat us?

- We have to do something. - Of course, guys.

Yeah, we have to do something.

- I'll take care of it. - They want to ruin us.

- Good! - Calm down. I'll take care of this.

Good.

Sir? Mister Owner? I'd like to ask you...

Tell me, what manners are these?

These poor artists need to work.

- I'm sorry, guys, but you must stop. - Are you kidding?

It's your producer's fault. He hasn't paid me, nor the band,

he hasn't paid the taxes. He took away the waiters' tips.

What do you expect?

What do we care? Are we going to waste 41 days?

We aren't going to go away, get it?

Do you want to ruin them? The championship is almost finished.

Come on, don't make a fuss, young lady.

- Excuse me, but... - This is our home.

That's right. This is our home. We sleep here...

What do you want to do? Do you want to go to the police?

- You'd be doing us a favor. - Let's go to the police.

I don't do that sort of thing. Your contract has expired and you have to go.

You make me laugh.

- You're gonna laugh, all right. - I'm gonna turn off the power.

Do whatever you want. You're doing us a favor.

- We're gonna dance all the same. - You'll see. Let's go, guys.

Guys, if you'll allow it, I'll whistle.

If you'll allow it, I'll whistle, you'll dance.

Just focus on the championship.

So what's your decision?

- We're gonna whistle and sing. - Right to the end.

- Right to the end. - All right. We'll see.

He isn't convinced yet.

Come on, guys. You have to move out.

How can it be? The contract was valid until the 17th.

You've been coming here every day. We used to be friends.

Precisely. You don't want to ruin that, do you?

- It's outrageous! - What did you just say?

Me? Nothing. I didn't say anything.

Comrades, did I say anything?

Come on, guys. Let's move them out.

What manners are these?

Slowly. Don't push.

Don't push. Help.

Set your minds at rest now and go back home, guys.

File a complaint against the producer.

A regular complaint. Then we'll pass it on.

But we'd forfeit the championship.

Who's gonna pay if we start from scratch?

- Calm down. First of all, who are you? - I'm Salvatore Loiacono, Chief.

- What do you want? Are you a dancer? - No, I'm not.

- Then what do you have to do with this? - Let me explain.

I'm the champions' secretary. I'm their jack-of-all-trades.

- I see. Do you have any ID? - Yes, sir.

Here you go, Chief.

You've just come out of prison. Two years of probation.

Loiacono, do you know you have to notify headquarters of your address?

Yes, sir. But the headquarters have allowed me three days.

They expire tonight.

I'd taken up residence with them, but then all this happened.

With them? Are you kidding me?

- I met him the day before yesterday. - I don't even know his name.

I didn't know he had been in prison.

What are you talking about? I told you everything. You too, miss.

- Me? - Yes, in Piazza d'Augusteo.

Every detail. You were very understanding.

Yes, maybe you did. But don't worry.

Well, leave it. Loiacono, you must focus on settling down now.

It's a serious matter, you know. You know the rules.

You can't hang out with other previous offenders.

You can't frequent public places nor gambling houses.

You must be home before sunset and you can't go out before sunrise.

You can't participate in gatherings, meetings, marches nor funerals-

unless it's the funeral of a relative.

- Have you got a family? - No, Chief.

It's all right, then. Look for lodging.

The problem is I fronted my money for them.

Then the producer, you know... I'm in a bit of a situation.

Look for a job, then. What was your occupation before?

- I was a barber. - Fine. Then be a barber.

Come to the headquarters with your address tomorrow morning.

And if you don't have any money...

- Marshal! - At your orders.

- Listen, Marshal. - At your orders.

Give him the addresses of some cheap dormitories.

It's essential for you to become a part of society once again.

Part of the social fabric.

- Easier said than done. - Dear Loiacono.

All right.

- Have a nice day. - Come with me.

- Goodbye, Loiacono. - I apologize.

We'll see you. Goodbye.

Cut it out!

I can't take it anymore. You are the one who must cut it out, get it?

Who is it?

Excuse me, I'd like to talk to Mrs. Teresa.

- All right, I'll be right down. - Thank you.

I'll beat you!

I can't take it anymore. I can't take it anymore, get it?

- Good morning. - Come in.

Do you get it? I'm fed up with you.

Every day the same old story, the same words.

Stop it. Who's kinder than your mother?

Cut it out.

Nobody is kinder to you than your mother.

Cut it out!

Nobody is kinder to you than your mother.

Yes, but I can love whoever I want.

- Stop it. - What do you think?

Well, mothers are always right.

Yeah, right. But you don't know what is happening in here.

- What can I do for you? - I'd like to have a bed, madam.

- Who sent you? - Marshal Papucci.

Come back in a couple of hours. I'll accommodate you.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

- Can I count on it? - All right.

- I'll be back in a couple of hours. - Yes.

- Very well. Don't be cross. - All daughters are the same.

- Is she your daughter? - Yes.

- She's beautiful. - Isn't she?

- Yes, she's beautiful. Goodbye, madam. - Goodbye.

Salvatore!

- Giacomino! - Salvatore, how are you?

I'm happy I've met you again. What's up?

- Same old life. When did you get out? - Three days ago.

I was just thinking of you. Do you remember when we were inside?

- Don't be melancholic. - Yeah. Let's not think of that.

Tell me, what happened with lolanda?

- lolanda? Who's lolanda? - Why, the letter girl.

I get it now. I've got another girlfriend now.

She's much prettier. She's beautiful.

I'll introduce her to you soon.

What's up with you? Are you working? Are you managing?

No, apparently I can't find a job now.

You have to look for it. You can't expect it to appear out of the blue.

Would you do me a favor, Salvatore?

If I can.

Would you buy me two cans of powdered milk

- in that pharmacy? - Yes.

I had an argument with the pharmacist and...

I can go right now.

Here you go, £2,000.

- Powdered milk, you said? - Powdered milk.

- I'm going there right now. - Thank you, Salvatore.

- You're a friend. - It's nothing.

- Good morning. - Good morning. How can I help you?

Doctor, I'd like to buy two cans of powdered milk.

Here you go.

- Montefiore? - Yes, sir.

It's £700.

- Thank you. Have a nice day. - Thank you.

- Are you waiting for Giacomino? - Yes.

- He said you must come with me. - Let's go.

Where is he?

Here he is. Here you go.

Here are the two cans. I paid £700.

This is the change, all right?

This is for you.

- For me? - Yes.

Why?

Have you seen how easy is it? For each note you change, £2,000 is for you.

I can't understand. What do you mean?

You can change as much as you want, but change neighborhoods and play it safe.

- So it's counterfeit? - Shut up!

- Counterfeit! - Shut up or they'll put us back inside.

Are you crazy? Do you want to go back to prison?

You're a criminal. Hey, criminal. What about the cans?

Oh my God. I won't even think about it.

May I?

- Come on in. The door is open. - May I?

Good morning, gentlemen.

Excuse me, is Mrs. Teresa here?

- Do you have an appointment? - She said I should come back.

- Marshal Papucci sent him. - Yes, sir.

Marshal Papucci is a good man.

- How long have you known the marshal? - Actually since this morning.

- Probation. - Yes, two years.

- How many years did you spend inside? - 22.

- 22 years? Why? - Crime of passion.

- Of honor. - Where did you serve the sentence?

I served the last years in Portorino.

- What's the prison director's name? - Mr. Taddei.

I meant his nickname, among us comrades.

- Dry Head. He's a real gentleman. - Good.

And I had the honor to shave him.

Here comes Mrs. Teresa. Good morning, Mrs. Teresa. It's all in order.

- Good morning, madam. - Good morning.

Goodbye, I'll see you tonight.

- This is a friend of mine. Goodbye. - Thank you so much.

- Madam, have you taken care of my bed? - Yes.

It's £200 a night.

- All in advance. - All right.

- Have you got any ID? - I'll bring it tonight.

All right. Listen...

- Where am I supposed to take lodging? - Right there, by the door.

- Should I settle down there? - Yes.

- It's the bed under the window. - I see.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

I'm going out. Stay here until I come back or I'll beat you.

- All right, I get it. - All right.

I'm fed up.

She wants me to be with an ugly, fat old man.

- And he's married. - That too?

But you're in love with someone else. Speak the truth.

In love? What does that mean? I like him. Can't I like him?

Of course.

If I do what she wants me to, years will pass and I'll end up doing her job.

What satisfaction! But I'm not going to give up.

At least one day I'll be able to say I've enjoyed my life.

And then with those eyes...

- Do you like my eyes? - They're wonderful.

I've never seen eyes like yours. Have you noticed they keep changing colors?

Really?

Listen, if you need anything, I'll be upstairs.

My name's Maria.

- Goodbye. - Bye.

- Good morning. - Make me look handsome.

Is that okay?

- Great. How much is it? - It's up to you. We're among friends.

Well, I'll give you £100 this time.

- But don't get used to it. - No, sir.

With a subscription fee, you'd be able to save and I'd earn something.

Very well. Let's leave it at that now.

- In the future, we'll see. - Thank you.

- Goodbye. - Good morning.

Who's next?

Just a shave for me.

Don't cut his hair or he won't look like a scientist,

like a professor anymore, and nobody will believe him anymore.

- Looks are important too. - Of course.

Tourists are cunning and suspicious.

- Excuse me, what do you do? - What do I do?

Take a look.

These are ancient Roman coins.

- They're worth £30,000 each. - Oh, my!

But I need money now, so I can give them to you for £10,000.

Thank you, I get it. This is the usual swindle.

That's it. The usual swindle.

The press has ruined us. Everybody knows it now.

But there's been too much swindling. It's depreciated in Rome by now.

- Where did you commit your crime? - Here in Rome.

- When? - 1930.

Then you must be the barber from via dei Pontefici.

Exactly.

You know, it's late. I'll get a shave later.

- Come here. - Or maybe tomorrow.

Come here. I'll fix you with two slashes.

Are you going away like this? Tell me...

As soon as the cowards found out I was the barber from via dei Pontefici,

they ran away with the towel.

So I found myself out of work and out of money once again.

Luckily, I had paid the room for three days,

and as far as eating, I still had the powdered milk cans.

Have you ever had powdered milk, Mr. President? You haven't?

It tastes horrible.

But I put up with it because amidst so much melancholy and squalor,

there was a small reason for joy and hope:

Miss Maria, Your Excellency.

Miss Maria?

Miss Maria?

- Who's calling for me? - Good morning.

Good morning.

I've got something to tell you.

Your eyes have remained engraved in my memory.

So I took the liberty of composing a little song.

- Would you like to hear it? - Of course.

Eyes that talk to me

Tell everybody

That when you look at me

My heart pounds

Eyes that make people fall in love

You light up my life

Tell Maria

That I can't live without those eyes

Is that guy still here? Do you really have to serenade my daughter?

It's just a little song, madam. I was just singing it to her.

What about you, you scoundrel? I'll show you when I get up there.

I'll hit you.

Beard, mustache, hair, anyone?

Beard, mustache, hair, anyone?

Should I go away? Should I close down?

Beard, mustache, hair, anyone?

I mean, this should be a good price for you. The barber is more expensive.

You can save with me since this is an in-house service.

- Beard, mustache, hair, anyone? - No, thank you.

Beard, mustache, hair, anyone?

Should I close down?

Listen, you look more refined.

Have something done. Beard, mustache, hair, shampoo.

I don't need anything at all, my dear.

I want to be this rough and this manly.

What about a perm?

You'd love to stick your hands in my hair.

Drop dead.

Hey, mister!

- Are you talking to me? - Yes. Come here.

- How can I help you, madam? - You must give me £2,000.

Ten days in advance.

- Me? £2,000? - Otherwise, you'll have to go away.

- Where am I supposed to find £2,000? - Wherever you want.

I can give you my tools as a guarantee.

I don't need them. They're of no use to me.

Should I go away just like that? I've also given you a £200 advance.

I'll give it back right now.

It's not human, nor fair. Where will I go?

If the police look for me after sunset and they can't find me,

I'm in trouble.

You can sleep in the staircase. But be gone tomorrow.

I don't want to see you there.

- Maria, hurry up. - I'm coming.

- Have you heard? - What?

- Your mother threw me out of the house. - So what?

- Can't you do anything about it? - I never meddle in these matters.

Mr. President, this is it.

- Nothing further? - No, I can't.

Mr. President, would you ask the defendant

what he means by the words, "I can't"?

Have you heard that? Please reply.

Yes, sir.

A gentleman cannot air his dirty linens in public.

Be aware this courtroom is not a public square.

I'd like the defendant to carry on stating the facts,

but he must speak up.

Everybody must be able to hear him, in the interest of justice.

It's in the defendant's best interest not to speak.

What? Why?

Your interests are not those of justice.

What do you mean?

I mean justice is trying to condemn you.

- Is it? - Yes.

So in the interest of justice, I'll speak.

I'll speak. I'll speak and I'll speak. Take that!

- Speak then! - Here we go, Your Excellency.

That night, Mr. President, I settled down on the stairs.

Come on, go away! I don't want anybody on the stairs.

But I've got Mrs. Teresa's permission.

I don't know her. Go on, go away or I'll call the guards.

Wait a minute. This is her blanket. She gave it to me.

I don't care. She'll take it back later on.

What manners are these? A poor man...

Go away. Don't ever come here again.

I didn't know where to go.

Luckily, I could not sleep and I wandered all night long.

After counting 20 churches, 18 monuments and 32 fountains,

all of a sudden I ran into a herd of oxen coming towards me.

I started running and they followed me.

At dawn, we reached the slaughterhouse.

Otello! Romolo!

- Romolo. - Good morning.

Good morning.

- Do you have a permit? - I want to talk to one of those people.

I'm sorry, you can't get through.

- Just a word. - I'm sorry, you can't get through.

- Just one word. - I'm sorry.

- Excuse me, sir? - Are you talking to me?

- Will you do me a favor? - Yes.

- Do you know these men? - Yes.

- Do you know the Torquati brothers? - Yes, I get it.

Will you tell them I'm here? I'm their brother-in-law, Salvatore Loiacono.

- Wait here. I'll try. - Thank you.

I couldn't talk to them. It's so confusing in there,

you can't understand a thing.

- How can it be? - They're talking about business.

Listen, I really need to talk to them. It's really important.

- Could you give me their address? - I don't know where they live.

You can go there. The fourth slaughterhouse there.

They work there.

- Are they coming out from there? - Yes, that way.

- Are you sure? - Yeah.

- Thank you so much. I'm sorry. - Goodbye.

What a curious coincidence, Mr. President.

The oxen that had scared me so much had led me to my family,

to my poor wife's brothers.

When I had last seen them, they were kids. They were poor.

They were a butcher's errand boys and now... What emotion, Mr. President.

My old life was coming back.

I had no idea how they would receive me, but I was astonished when-

Romolo!

- he opened his arms wide and flung them around my neck.

- Salvatore, how are you? - Just think! 22 years have passed.

- Poor Salvatore, how are you? - I'm so glad.

You know, you look really good. God, it's really you.

Who would have thought so? Come with me. I'll drive you home.

God, dear Salvatore. Get in.

- It feels like a dream. - A dream.

Tell me.

When poor Aida... Well, I mean...

- Did she remember me, think about me? - Of course.

Poor Aida! I made her suffer so much.

- Yeah. - But she must have understood.

I didn't do it because...

I did it to defend her from the danger of that scoundrel, that rogue.

That rascal.

What was I supposed to do?

Should I have held back?

You know what? I'd kill him again.

I'd kill that criminal again,

despite what I went through.

Salvatore, I almost forgot, I have to make an urgent phone call.

I'll stop at that bar and you can wait for me for five minutes.

You don't mind, do you?

Hello? Guess who's with me? Salvatore.

Yes, he's out. I don't know. Parole, he says.

Aren't you happy? It's what we needed. We must throw him a party.

Get it? Let me speak. I know what we have to do.

It's a stroke of luck. Is Agnesina at home? She must look pretty.

Get it? Tell mother. Call Nandino too.

Have everybody ready. Surprise, joy, fondness.

We'll be there shortly. Thank you.

Good morning, everybody.

Look who I brought you! Our Salvatore!

- Mom. - Salvatore!

Dad!

Hello, Salvatore.

Salvatore, listen to me.

Come with me. You're going to be sitting at the head of the table.

- We want you at the head of the table. - Are you all right, Salvatore?

This is my wife. You haven't met her yet.

- How do you do, madam? - We've heard so much about you.

- Nice to meet you. - Sit down.

- Don't bother. - Thank you.

Mom, hand me the salt. Give him something to drink.

- He must be thirsty. - Will you shut up for a while?

If I may, I'd like to say a couple of words.

Salvatore, are you happy? You're back home.

We all love you here. You mustn't go away anymore.

You know what? I wish poor Aida was here.

But Aida, poor woman, sees us from up there and she's happy too.

Salvatore, I've forgotten to introduce you to my brother-in-law, Nandino.

- Why don't we switch on the radio? - How do you do?

- Put on some music. - Brother-in-law?

No, thank you.

Soup? He must be hungry.

I'm not standing on ceremony. It's not necessary.

- Thank you. - This is good stuff, Salvatore.

Eat up, eat up!

Thea, bring some more pasta. This is too bland.

Yes, right away.

Romolo, did you get married?

I didn't have time to get married. I've been busy.

Then how come he is our brother-in-law?

What happened? It looked as if she was laughing.

She is indeed. But her blood pressure is almost 300, so if she laughs, she dies.

- Isn't anybody going to eat anymore? - Who should be eating now?

Blood pressure of 300.

- I've got low blood pressure. - That's a good thing.

Listen, I still haven't understood why you're our brother-in-law.

I'm the one who can't understand. Who are you?

I'm Salvatore. Poor Aida's husband.

- Salvatore the barber? - Exactly.

So don't think me obstinate,

but how can you be our brother-in-law?

It's a long story.

Make it short then.

So you really want to know. When you were in prison,

Aida was here with me. She was my friend.

Come on, it's nothing. It's the same old fit.

Let's give her some more drops. Get some water.

- What is it? - Nandino's telling him the truth.

Is he telling him about Aida? Good Lord!

Get me another pillow. I'll put it under her head. Mother!

- Under her head like this. - Mother.

It's nothing. It's over already. Mother is better.

Salvatore, sit down. Carry on eating.

Romolo, I told him everything.

Salvatore, let me explain.

Poor Aida was very sick.

She went through a lot. You were in prison.

Mom was always sick. We tried to take care of her.

That friend of hers, Nandino, was there for us, for her.

We looked after her together, in every way.

But nothing was any good. She wanted to die.

Thank you.

Do you know her?

This is Agnesina. She the daughter of a friend of ours.

She's really good. We treat her like a sister. You know how kind we are.

Don't pay any attention to her short hair.

She's had typhus, but it'll grow back.

She's pretty, isn't she?

If you only knew how good she is. She can do anything.

She's a wonderful girl. Lucky is the man who will marry her.

It's incredible. You're always thinking about work.

There's plenty of time to go to work.

I know, but I don't want to be a burden.

What are you talking about? Just pretend you're a child coming out of school.

You must focus on having fun, being entertained.

One night Agnesina and you can go to the movies.

You can hang out and have fun.

All you have to think about is having fun.

Don't you feel like spending time with her?

- What do you think, Mom? - Of course, sonny. You must have fun.

- I'm going to the kitchen. - Calm down. Sit down.

- Calm down. - I'll show you.

- I'm finished. Can I go? - Go!

- What time is it? - It's 9:00.

Damn, it's late. I have an appointment. I have to go.

What have you got to do at this time?

I have to go. I have an appointment. Good night.

Shall we go to the movies too?

Yes, let's go. Be kind, Remo.

Are you crazy? They have to get up early so you can live like ladies of leisure.

- Don't we work too? - Yes, you sew tablecloths.

Instead you could have some children, or my family line is going to end.

What, is it our fault?

Of course! With two fine men like these, it can only be your fault.

- But it's better not to talk about it. - Calm down. Don't get angry.

Are you comfortable?

Can you see all right?

- Sir, could you take off your hat? - Is a funeral procession passing by?

No, there's no funeral procession. But the young lady can't see.

- Buy her a pair of glasses. - What a rude man.

Let's sit somewhere else.

Sit down!

Calm down!

We're not going to calm down. Sit down!

- Send him away! - Call in the lifeguard!

I don't want to see.

I'll tell you when the scene is over.

- Shooting scares me. - Me too.

- Come on. - Your hand is so warm.

Really?

Warm hands, cold heart.

No. My heart is warm.

Very warm. Actually, it's hot.

- Good evening. - Goodbye, Salvatore.

Wait, I'm gonna get the keys to the other apartment.

Come on in.

- Do you need anything? - No, thank you.

- Do you drink at night? - Yes, actually...

My throat is a bit dry.

- I'll get you a glass of water then. - No no.

Let me get it.

Let me.

This is Mrs. Amalia's charity work.

- Are you sleepy? - So-so.

This is where you switch off the light.

- Thank you. - I'm gonna go.

- Good night. - Good night.

Good night.

Good night.

My bedroom was close to Agnesina's.

The wall was thin like a sheet of paper.

I could hear her sigh. In her sleep, she talked like a baby.

I'd fallen in love already.

I couldn't sleep a wink that night. My love developed like a fever.

To be able to make a new life for myself with a pure being like Agnesina...

I've fallen in love So what can I do?

I've fallen in love And I want to marry her

I don't eat anymore, I don't drink anymore, I don't sleep anymore

I don't go out anymore I don't come in anymore

I've fallen in love So what can I do?

I've fallen in love And I want to marry her

- Did you like it? - What was I supposed to like?

The song I just sang.

- Is it new? I've never heard it before. - Of course not.

I wrote it last night, thinking of you.

I had many Agnesinas before my eyes,

looking at me with those eyes, like you're doing now.

And they smiled at me just like you're doing.

- Instead of sleeping? - There's no point in sleeping.

I have a persistent thought,

I want to get married again.

Yes. I want to start a new family, a new life.

- You're crazy! - I blame you.

And those smiling eyes you have.

Listen, do you love me a little bit?

Why not?

I have to pry.

Before me, have you had any other suitors, boyfriends?

A cousin of mine, in my village.

But his mother was against it because of the stuff.

Stuff? What stuff?

- I didn't have anything and so... - Prejudices.

- The only thing that matters is love. - The doorbell is ringing.

Don't bother. I'll get it.

Your friend is madly in love.

What do you care?

I don't care at all. Best wishes and may you have male children.

- Good morning. - Good morning, is Mrs. Amalia here?

Mrs. Amalia's not here.

- I have to collect a gold wedding ring. - Yes, but Mrs. Amalia's not here.

- Tell her I passed by. - All right.

I'll tell her you passed by.

But... Madam!

Who are you? Madam? Who am I supposed to say was here?

I'm the one who pawned the wedding ring at 300% interest.

- What can I do for you? - I'd like to talk to somebody.

- Somebody in the Torquati family? - Yes, in the Torquati family.

Everybody is out.

- What about you? - I'm not out.

Do you belong to the family?

Well, yeah, I belong to the family. I'm a relative.

- It's fine then. - Please.

What is it? Are there any cracks in the building? Is it an earthquake?

My God.

Mister!

So? I'm Salvatore Loiacono.

- I'm Abramo Piperno. - I'm very pleased to meet you.

Well, they're quite well-off, thanks to my blood.

- Beg your pardon? - Thanks to my blood.

- Thanks to your blood? - Yes, thanks to my blood.

Are you a blood donor?

What's your blood type? A, B? Listen...

Mr. Blood?

Aren't you tired at all?

Don't you feel like sitting down?

Don't stand on ceremony. At least you could take off your hat.

- Yes. - That's something at least.

The doorbell. A member of the family must have come back. Excuse me.

Mother, there's a gentleman here who wants to talk to you.

What can I do for you?

- Good morning, Mrs. Amalia. - Who are you? I don't remember you.

Yes, of course. You don't recognize me. Nine years have gone by.

I'm Abramo.

Oh my God. Help! Thea!

What happened?

Madam! Madam! Come on, madam! Don't! Be good.

It's nothing. She's crying. It's only laughter that's dangerous.

Abramuccio, Abramuccio. I loved you like a son.

Life is cruel. Have you come alone?

Yes, alone. Grandma died during the journey.

It was too cold.

It was October when we were traveling north.

Mom didn't survive either. She died of pneumonia

in a camp near Munich. I didn't see her. I was told of her death.

Father, Ester, Beniamino and Rebecca,

the four of them all died in Auschwitz, in the gas chambers.

You did read the newspapers, didn't you? There were the gas chambers.

People were sent in there naked,

with a towel, a piece of soap.

All in a line.

That's terrible, poor souls. How about you?

- Me... here I am. - Alive.

Alive. It's odd, right? But I'm still alive.

I'm glad you remembered us, poor Abramuccio.

What do you want to do now?

Nothing now. But I want to talk to your children.

Tell them. Not now. I'll be back.

I'll be back tomorrow, the day after tomorrow.

I'll be back soon. Tell them.

Tell them.

He looked as if he wanted to hit me.

To think, I've had masses held for him.

Sit down. Make me understand. My blood is already rushing to my head.

What did he want?

After all, we helped them during the persecution.

And we bought their stuff even if it was dangerous.

Of course! We might have ended up in jail.

And now he probably wants to blackmail us.

What else could he want? You tell me, 'cause I really don't know.

If I didn't have a family...

Tell me about it!

If I had been here today, I would have pushed him down the stairs.

Can I talk?

- I'm the head of the family. - Talk!

- He wants his father's stuff back. - What stuff?

- We've paid him back fully. - Don't be ridiculous.

- What? Do you think the Jew's right? - Yes.

We must have him stopped. It's incredible.

We must be firm. We can't fear him.

- We must find somebody who... - I will.

I will.

When I'm grateful to somebody, I'd go through fire.

You've helped me recover my faith in life.

You've reintegrated me into the social fabric.

I know how to treat the likes of him.

- Where can I find him? - At Portico D'Ottavia.

For heaven's sake, don't you do anything.

What can a man like you do?

What's that gesture supposed to mean? What does it mean?

Think of what you went through. Stop him, by God!

Salvatore, stop! Do it for poor Aida!

Salvatore! Salvatore!

- I'll stop him. - Nandino!

Where are you going? Leave it be. Mind your own business.

Salvatore, come here.

Have you gone crazy? Where are you going?

- Why are you asking? - Haven't 20 years been enough for you?

22, actually.

Even more so then. Haven't you learned to mind your own business in 22 years?

This is not your- our business. This is our family's business.

Our family's?

Listen, Salvatore, you have to understand

that they want to set you up.

They want you to do to Abramo what you did to Cannolicchio.

No! How can you think something like that? By God!

They're capable of any sort of thing. They're gonna lead you to it.

Listen, Nandino. The Torquatis have been nothing but good to me.

You can't complain either. They're good people.

What are you talking about? The Torquatis are good people?

They'd kill one another for a penny. They'd go as far

- as stealing in a church. - Nandino, Nandino!

- Don't make me talk, Salvatore. - Why?

What do you mean, why?

Am I to tell you the truth one more time?

What?

- You called your wife, Aida, a saint. - So what?

- She was Cannolicchio's lover. - No.

When he tired of her, she made you believe he had tried to dishonor her.

The family knew all about it.

- No. - I'm telling you.

Nandino, Nandino!

And you've been in the clink for 22 years.

Do what I do, Salvatore. Don't compromise yourself.

Mind your own business.

But then, if you want to be crazy and meddle, I'll take you to the Jew.

I know where he lives. Come with me, Salvatore. Let's go.

They must know where he lives. Let's ask.

- Excuse me? - Tell me.

- Where does Abramo Piperno live? - That's his cousin there.

They're looking for Abramo, your cousin.

- Who's looking for him? - The Torquatis. Tell him to come here.

- I'll go get him. - Thank you.

Salvatore, be careful this time. Let the Jew talk.

He has some incredible stories to tell.

There he is.

Good morning.

I was just looking for you, Mr. Piperno.

What do you want from me?

I need to talk to you.

All right. Let's go over there. We'll be able to talk in peace.

It'd be enough for me to say what I suspect.

But I don't do that kind of thing.

What do you suspect? Tell me.

No, it's not worth it. I mean,

it is odd that the Germans came to arrest us

on the very same day that...

- Tell me. Tell me everything. - It's better not to.

If you can't prove anything, it's better not to disclose your suspicions.

But I know for sure I'm getting to the bottom of this.

I'll hire 100 lawyers.

If I can manage to prove I'm right, they'll be sorry.

They'll be back on skid row like before.

If this is true, I can't say you're wrong. You're right.

- What were you going to tell me? - Nothing.

- So what? - Remember I'm on your side.

So that was my family.

I decided I'd go away forever. I needed some fresh air.

I felt suffocated by that filth. But that wasn't all.

I was still in for the worst surprise.

All of a sudden, I realized why they'd welcomed me so warmly.

Hurry up, get dressed. We're leaving.

Where are we going? Why?

I don't know where, but I know why.

A pure flower like you can't be surrounded by this filth.

- What do you want? - No, hurry up. We must go away.

- Come on, you're just joking. - No, my love. I'm not.

An honest man like me can't stand this.

- So what? - So we're going away.

Why are you saying "we"? At least tell me what happened.

I'll tell you when it's time. I'll tell you later.

- I'm sleepy now. - Come on, honey. You can sleep later.

When? Where?

And then, let's be frank. you want to go away,

but how will we live if I come with you?

I'll work. We'll work.

Thank God we have strong arms.

I'll make any sacrifice so you won't lack for anything.

No, I'm staying here.

A girl like you can't live amongst these monsters.

I told you I'm staying here.

I'm pregnant.

Agnese?

The old man.

Yes, it was the old man. And I'm a minor.

But they're gonna have to pay a lot of money.

My ideals, Your Excellency, had collapsed one right after the other.

Aida wasn't a saint.

My relatives had grown rich on the blood of a deported family.

My mother-in-law was a loan shark.

Abramo had reached an agreement with his persecutors

so he wouldn't pay the taxes.

And Agnesina...

Agnesina, who had seemed like an angel from heaven...

Your Excellency, Agnesina...

Get it? So I decided I'd go back to prison.

I wanted to be with my cellmates again,

with my friends who still believe

that on the outside there is honesty, goodness, faithful women.

Outside the prison, I felt like I was in prison.

I needed freedom so much.

After all, I still had to serve the seven years they'd cut from my sentence

and that I hope, Your Excellencies, you want to give back to me.

- I object. - What are you objecting to?

Nobody asked for you. Nobody wants you.

Nobody called you or paid you.

Gentlemen of the court, my client's mental state-

I'm not your client. Is that clear?

- is obviously not normal.

Who's not normal? You are the one who's not normal.

You are the crazy one. Can't you understand that I want to go to prison?

You're the crazy one.

Nobody's paying you and you want to crack this hard nut.

Gentlemen of the court, I object.

We'll talk about that later.

Please, Counselor, let him finish.

He hasn't told us how he managed to get back into the prison yet.

- Would you please carry on? - He won't let me speak.

Let's carry on.

Your Excellency, with the little money I had left,

I went back to Portorino.

I knew the prison director's habits. Every night, he would go

and play cards at Café Basubio at the end of the tree-lined boulevard.

Indeed, he was there. I wanted to weep for the joy of seeing him,

my dear director.

He was playing with the marshal and the sergeant. I wanted to hug them too.

I drew closer to talk to him. I wanted to move him,

explain my situation to him. I'm sure he would have understood me.

But he was completely absorbed in his game and didn't even see me.

So I had a desperate idea, Mr. President.

But it was the only one that could save me.

I slowly got closer to the clothes stand

and, keeping a low profile, I stole the director's hat.

I also took his scarf and his coat.

At the prison door, I felt discouraged.

But then I stopped hesitating and I knocked.

I was relying on my clothing and on my stature-

the same as the director's.

- Good evening. - I coughed like him.

It all went smoothly.

Good evening, director.

- Good evening, director. - Good evening.

Good evening, director.

The gates opened, one after the other.

I counted them down. There were seven.

Nothing new, director. The second watch has just gone out.

Good evening.

I kept going up until the director's lodging at the top of the castle.

It was the room on top.

From there, it wasn't difficult to lower myself into my cell.

I got in.

It was pitch dark.

I found the light switch.

I took off my coat, my scarf and my hat.

"On the bed. No, a hat on the bed brings bad luck. "

I needed something to use as a cord.

"I got it, the sheets. "

Attention! Attention!

Change posts!

Attention! Attention!

The courtyard! The courtyard!

- I'm switching on the lights. - First.

Second.

Second!

That's enough.

Wake up. Wake up.

Wake up.

So, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, 10...

11, 12- Wait a minute! Stay where you are.

One, two, three- What are you doing here?

Superior, you have to understand me.

The outside world is wicked. It's evil. So I chose to come back inside.

What? You rascal! Who let you in?

I'm a family man. You're going to ruin me.

- Hands up! - This is absurd.

God! Downstairs! Go see the director.

Downstairs. He's a rogue. A criminal.

Yes, a criminal. Criminal is the right word.

He's a repeat offender and hardened criminal.

And these morally corrupt beings,

gentlemen of the court, can't but go to prison.

Good!

Look him in the face.

Watch him.

His ear is abnormal.

His nose is crooked, which is a sign of far worse moral crookedness.

His chin is too prominent.

I mean, really prominent.

Last but not least, look at his eyes.

They're cynical and evasive.

I mean, everything- everything in this jailbird

screams of a hardened criminal.

But due to a queer perversion...

of his typically parasitical nature,

he considers prison a resting place

at the expense of the state.

I ask that, according to article 633 of the penal code,

he be condemned not to prison, but to a £70,000 fine.

I will now call upon the defense to speak.

Gentlemen of the court,

let me, at the end of this sea of trouble,

at the end of this offensive,

animated and, may I say, farce of a trial,

say but a few essential words.

For once,

let us put everything out in the open.

- Pardon? - In the open.

£70,000.

How will this fellow manage to pay £70,000?

He doesn't even have the money to pay for his lawyer.

In this courtroom, the only word

we can speak for Salvatore Loiacono is

acquittal. Acquittal!

Because the facts do not amount to a crime.

Or, at least,

there's no evidence of fraudulent intention.

Order in the court.

In the name of the Italian people, given article 633 of the penal code,

this courtroom finds Salvatore Loiacono guilty

of the crime he's been charged with and condemns him

to a £70,000 fine, besides court expenses.

- Have you heard, Loiacono? - Yes, Your Excellency.

Then you're free.

You're going back to the prison to deal with a few formalities and then...

But if you don't pay within the deadline,

you'll go back to prison.

- We're going to appeal. - Appeal? What are you talking about?

I'm gonna bite your head.

I'll pay, Your Excellency. I'll pay the fine and everything else.

Even this odd sort of lawyer. But I'll pay by being in prison!

Enough now! Take him away! Let's move on to the following case

against Pasquale Cannatappa, inmate.

- You rogue! - Why?

- You have the right to appeal. - Why should I?

- President! - What have you done?

Aggravated assault. I'll be inside for five years.

I beg your pardon? Five years?

Assault, five years! Wait a minute.

- Let's go. Come on. - I want to speak to my lawyer.

- I'll call the lawyer. - I've got the right to do it.

Calm down! I'll call the lawyer. Keep hold of him.

Counselor!

He's gone to get you the lawyer. Hold still.

- Counselor! - What do you want?

Have you changed your mind? Do you want to appeal? What do you want?

No, I just want some information. Please, Counselor, come here.

All right.

- But these guardian angels... - Please, may I?

I wanted you to tell me what aggravated assault means.

It's when you inflict an injury under aggravating circumstances.

- Really? - Three to six years in prison.

- Three to six years in prison. - Why do you want to know?

- Are you sure? Well, you're a lawyer. - Of course.

What about a double assault?

- Aggravated assault. - Double punishment.

You may end up in the court of assize. But why?

It's just for personal reasons. One more thing.

What would be the punishment for ear-biting with lobe removal?

You may be sentenced to 12 years in prison for permanent injury.

Really?

Of course. But why do you want to know?

- It's for personal reasons. - Why do you wanna know?

Twelve years in prison?

I can't waste any time. Tell me why.

Why? Because I need them.

Help! My ear!

My ear! My ear! You criminal!

You're gonna get life imprisonment!

Life imprisonment!

What satisfaction!

Have you heard? I'll get a life sentence.

You've given me your word, Counselor.

- You criminal! - Life imprisonment.

THE END